Seaside Confessions
by rippingbutterflywings
Summary: Clary Fray has known Jace for her whole life. Now, after all this time they've been friends, she has a confession to make, one that will change everything. OOC. A/U. One-shot.


**Hey guys! Um, just a quick one-shot I just finished writing. :) Thanks to ****maxwaylandgrey ****for helping me choose a title and keeping my hopes about CAOH up. ;) Thanks to ****lightlacedwithbeauty ****for being awesome and staying that way. Thank you, world. I love you. Now give me a boyfriend.**

**(I'm apparently PMSing, only not really.)**

**Enjoy!**

**Review!**

There he goes. He's the guy every girl wants, the guy every boy wants to be. He walks by me, flashes me a smile, asks me how I am. I reply that I'm okay, and we talk like we always have, though it's not the same. This is what I do every day, every other day, every day unlike today. It hasn't been the same since I started to like him.

_Like _him.

It didn't even happen until last month, or at least I didn't realize it until then. We were sitting in a boathouse, waiting for our parents to get here from fishing. They'd been friends since High School, the best of friends, and that's how we know each other. Our parents make us spend time together, which hasn't always been a bad thing, but it hasn't always been a good thing either. Maybe I wouldn't even like him if I didn't know him as well as I do. Or maybe it's the opposite. I sigh. Last month, when I realized it, everything stopped. He grabbed my hand and told me he needed his friend—he needed me. His girlfriend broke up with him. He was heartbroken, or so he said. He looked devastated. I know him, though. I know he meant it. He has the reputation of a total badass, the guy every girl wishes she could have and the kind of guy that girls sleep with. He would've never admitted it to anyone else. He admitted it to me, though. And now I feel guilty. I've been hiding this big thing from him, and it's something that he needs to know. I know because he told me I could trust him. You could argue that this is different, and it is. But it's still something I'm keeping from him. I don't wanna lie anymore.

I need to confess.

I need to tell him.

He needs to know.

The sun is setting as I walk over to him, sucking a lollipop. It's what I do when I'm nervous. My green floral dress—the one my mom is making me wear for the dinner in two hours—is extremely uncomfortable, though I'm sure everyone can tell by the way I'm walking. I'm wearing converse with them, though, so that should make it better. The rocks hurt the soles of my feet, but it doesn't matter. I keep walking toward him. I'm the one who called, after all.

There he sat, in the same spot he's sitting on now. He waited for me there that time. He rested his head on my shoulder, looking incredibly sad as he did so. I wished I could've comforted him more. I know I did. Yet I was glad—I still am—that he and his girlfriend are over and done.

Does that make me a bad person?

I walk over to where he's sitting; hands stuffed his pockets, breath ragged because of the cold. I don't know how I'm not that cold—doesn't mean that I'm not cold, just not freezing. I shiver, though, as I sit next to him, far away from the sea so it won't get me wet and close enough so I can see how amazing it is, especially at this time. Its colors are blue and green with the shadow of yellow. I look up at the sky. We sit in silence for awhile, just admiring the scenery.

"You said you wanted to tell me something?" Jace says, his gold eyes turning yellow against the setting light of the sun.

I clear my throat. "Yeah, kind of." I keep crossing and uncrossing my legs.

"What is it?" he asks, scooting over, getting closer to me.

"Are you okay?" I ask, suddenly remember that he's the one supposed to be heartbroken, not me.

"Yes."

"Do you miss her?"

"Who?" Realization hits him. "Kaelie?"

"Yeah," I say bitterly, not liking the sound of her name on his lips. I want him to say my name over and over again. _Clary, Clary, Clary, Clary. _

"Not anymore, no." He smiles at me. "I've always liked another girl." There's something about the way he says it that makes my insides all gooey. It might be me.

"Always?" I say.

"Always." He looks at me. Smiles. Gets closer. And then he lifts my chin and lowers his head. My heart is pounding wildly, and as I get closer I think: _this is it! Ohmyohmyohmy. _

It's nothing like Mom ever said. She said it would be sweet and not passionate, but this is the complete opposite of us. This has passion and love and lost and happiness. I kiss him and he kisses me. HE KISSES ME! HE'S KISSING ME!

I've never been happier.

But then his hands are around me, pulling me to him, and I know that there are better things than a kiss. I'm more than happy. I feel as if I'm about to explode because of excessive happiness. I smile to myself, even though we're still kissing.

When he pulls away, he smiles. A kiss may not be everything, but it's a start.

"I came here to tell you I like you," I confess. A huge weight has been lifted off of me, and I feel lighter.

He smiles, crushes my lips to his, and then tells me that he just gave me his answer. I ask for it.

"I like you, too."


End file.
